Frostbite
by pinkpower
Summary: Brick pushes his luck with Blossom. Oneshot. Rated for implied yummy situations.


**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.**

**Author's Note: It's been awhile since I've written anything about Blossom and Brick, even though they're one of my favorite cartoon couples to daydream about. Anyway, I'm out of practice in writing what I think their teenage personalities are like, but hopefully this ff will work out. R&R!**

There were just some days where Brick Jojo liked to put his own sanity in question in regards to Blossom Utonium, his Powerpuff Girl nemesis. It was hardly a secret to anyone that the ginger-haired teenage boy thoroughly enjoyed causing Blossom, who was typically the most level-headed and centered of her sisters, to redden on occasion. He loved it when her peach cheeks would stain with a more scarlet hue, the same fire burning in her pink irises; and he loved it even more when she would clench her fists against the swell of her hips. The sight of Blossom's blood boiling always amused Brick, even intrigued him. He often found her slightly attractive in those instances.

Hot.

Annoying his female counterpart was in a word, entertaining, but that wasn't the main reason he liked tormenting her on a daily basis. They were enemies and he couldn't simply be nice to Blossom. Hell, he could barely be kind to the girls he did date. Getting under her strawberry-flushed skin was the only way Brick knew how to talk to Blossom with Pokey Oak's student body buzzing with speculation, or Butch and Boomer getting on his case. Besides, behaving the way a pleasant person would wasn't exactly in the red Rowdyruff's repertoire. Even though Blossom more than likely hated his guts, heated words were infinitely better than being invisible to her. So, that's why Brick made it a fun habit of bullying Blossom on school premises.

Today, the ever-punctual Powerpuff Girl was in a hurry to her sixth period, some guys purposely brushing against her swollen curves. Leaning against the red lockers, Brick watched her for a moment—the way her fresh auburn waves swayed with her stifled steps forward. Then, as means to harass her, he side-stepped to the middle of the hallway to block her path.

"Brick," the leader of the Powerpuff Girls said crisply, nodding curtly.

"Blossom," Brick uttered, copying her polite, yet agitated tone.

She expelled an exasperated sigh, moving to the left in attempt to get to class, but Brick again stepped in her way. Then Blossom went to the right, but Brick refused to relent. Blossom tried once more, expecting him to grow exhausted of this little game, yet once more he followed her movements.

He crossed his arms square over his broad chest, a wicked smirk plastered on his mouth. "Going somewhere?"

Taking a small step backward, Blossom examined her counterpart curiously. "Would you please for once be obliging and remove yourself from my way?

"No, I don't think I will," Brick retorted, an eyebrow arched on his forehead.

"I have a class to get to," Blossom informed him, her commanding tone hushed.

A few people glanced at the Rowdyruff and the Powerpuff, some with particular interest.

"Big deal," Brick snorted, rolling his eyes. "I'm not the least bit concerned with your education." She was already ranked as the number one smartest person in the entire school. Would be a few minutes late to one class actually be that much of a travesty?

"I'm not requesting that you," Blossom replied, giving him a sardonic smile. "I am simply asking that you politely step aside and let me by."

"But I prefer my spot right here," Brick countered.

Nodding, Blossom shuffled back to the left with Brick simultaneously moving with her. "And yet you continue to move from your preferred spot."

"Well, you wouldn't exactly cut a rug with me at Homecoming," Brick pointed out, a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders conveying his lack of care. "How else am I supposed to get you to dance with me?"

"To be perfectly honest, I would rather not be anywhere near you," Blossom huffed, her lovely face growing hot in frustration. Her light pink irises darkened to magenta as she clutched her balled hands at her sides. "In fact, swallowing raw egg yolks seems much more delightful."

Dang. Wouldn't he just love to prove her wrong? That would be the best day of his life.

"You wound my fragile ego, Powderpuff." He grasped an imaginary dagger and dramatically twisted it through his heart.

Blossm quirked an auburn eyebrow at her enemy, stamping a foot. "Move, Brick!" she demanded.

"No," he chortled lightly.

"Don't you torture me enough outside of school?" Blossom grumbled, pursing her delicious, cherry-hued lips. "Do you honestly feel the need to invade my space every waking moment of my life?"

"Mm-hmm." Brick nodded sheepishly, his crimson orbs taking notice of the thin bra strap falling out his pink counterpart's short-sleeved blouse. He couldn't hide his bemused and arrogant grin, realizing that the silk fabric was the same color of his baseball cap, the same color as his t-shirt, and the same color of his eyes—red. He seized this opportunity, slipping an index finger beneath the strap and tucked it carefully under Blossom's pink sleeve. The pad of his finger made mouth-watering contact with Blossom's milky-smooth shoulder. So soft. "Tormenting you is a hobby of mine."

"Try collecting stamps," Blossom suggested, tilting her head wearily to the side. Nervously, her eyes wavered to the Rowdyruff's finger upon her skin, gazing upon the gentle exchange in befuddlement.

"I would rather collect your undergarments," Brick remarked, nefariously casting a wink in her direction.

Belatedly jerking back from Brick's touch, Blossom glowered in caution. She didn't seem the least bit amused by his antics. "Ew."

"Come on, sweetheart," the red-headed male murmured, precariously taking a step forward. "You know I turn you on."

"In your dreams, lowlife," Blossom spat, her eyes flickering toward the hallway clock.

Not as many students lingered. A few soccer jocks stood outside the biology lab while Princess flirted with Mitch.

"You want to get to class on time, Blossy?" Brick inquired, a genius idea springing to mind.

"Yes. That would appear to be the goal," she answered, nodding once.

"Then, there's one thing you have to do for me."

"And what could that possibly be?"

"I want a kiss," he propositioned smugly.

"Well, Brick, there are over three hundred girls in Pokey Oaks High School," Blossom started, looking as though she would sock him square in the jaw. Unfortunately, she wasn't permitted to use violence as leverage to solve problems. "One of them is bound to have low enough self-esteem to kiss you. Just pick one."

Brick shook his head. "No. I want a kiss from you."

"No way."

"Then I guess we can spend detention together," he chuckled, feeling a tiny bit maniacal. He was well aware of the fact that his favorite girl would die before she planted a kiss on him. "Miss Finklesburg won't tolerate tardiness."

"But-"

"It's no skin off my back," Brick smirked, brimming with evil fantasies involving Blossom's delectable, pink mouth. "I kind of like the idea of you and me getting all cozy in the back of the detention room. Like a date. We can get hot and heavy."

"You churn my stomach," Blossom replied disgustedly.

"Tick-tock," Brick teased, challenging her to make the first move. "Almost time for Biology."

"Do you really want a kiss, Brick?" she inquired, grasping her strong hands around his shoulders and shoved him into the nearest locker. There was no space between their bodies, which Brick thought was more than delightful.

"Y-Yeah," Brick stammered, perplexed by her sudden behavior.

He was out of her way now. She could go to class if she wanted to. Did she want to?

"All right," Blossom answered in a light, sultry tone. "You win."

Her rounded breasts were pressed against his muscular chest, her upper torso heavy on his shirt. He noted briefly that she was laced in French vanilla body spray, the scent sweet and flawless to his nostrils; she was intoxicating. Brick gulped, his crimson irises pasted to the flushed, plump edges of Blossom's scrumptious lips as they came closer and closer. The pink Powerpuff Girl's minty fresh breath brushed over Brick's lower lip while his eyelids slowly shut, trapped under the spell of desire—their mouths only seconds away from meeting as Brick's lips burned in need of Blossom.

Then, a gust of icy wind blew against his mouth. Icicles closed his lips shut, muffling his groans of surprise. Blossom tricked him! That clever girl.

She walked off to Biology, all smug and proud, winning this round.


End file.
